


Shall We Dance?

by amiraculousladybug



Series: On the Banks of the Seine [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ballroom Dancing, Competition, Gen, Swing Dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amiraculousladybug/pseuds/amiraculousladybug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kwami Dance Club has lowered its age restrictions, and rumor has it that the owners are looking for a new member to take up the title of Ladybug, their number one swing dancer, before the annual competition. Marinette visits the club out of curiosity and ends up dealing with more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kwami Dance Club

**Author's Note:**

> Quick little disclaimer: I just started swing dancing last spring, and the swing style at my university is a hodgepodge of East Coast, West Coast, and Linda Hop, so the style I use in the story is a bit of a hybrid because that's what I learned. I apologize for any errors or discrepancies with the dancing; that will be purely the fault of my inexperience.  
> EDIT: There have been a few comments talking about listening to electro swing because of this, so here's my personal playlist for the chapter.  
> Pantaloons - Tape Five  
> The Jitters - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

“Marinette, did you hear?”

Marinette turned away from the warm-up bar to look at Alya inquisitively. “Hear what?”

Alya waved her cell phone in Marinette's face, too close to be informative. “That dance club downtown finally dropped their age limit! You know, the one that keeps making it to the finals in the annual swing competition? They dropped the age down to fourteen!”

Marinette fought to keep a neutral expression on her face. “They did?” The Kwami Dance Club, a little club along the banks of the Seine, was famous throughout Paris despite its small size. Every year without fail, one of their pairs of dancers would reach the finals of the Paris swing dance competition. They had come close to winning first place almost every single time. Marinette had been burning to visit for a while now. The age limit had been the only thing stopping her; up until now, the owners had always barred entry to anyone under the age of eighteen. Well, that and the fact that Francoise Dupont Dance Academy didn't teach its students a lick of swing dancing. Marinette knew how to dance a waltz, a tango, a foxtrot, a Viennese waltz, even a rumba, but she didn't know the first thing about how to swing dance, and she didn't want to show up at the dance club and make a fool of herself.

“It's all everyone's been talking about this morning,” Alya gushed, withdrawing her phone from Marinette's face to scroll down on the screen. “There are some people wondering if Ladybug is gonna come back.”

Ladybug. Otherwise known as Kwami Dance Club's top female dancer. Up until last year, she had been a member of the club's number one pair in every swing competition. Then, suddenly, she had stepped down last year with no explanation. The dance club had still made it to the competition finals, but Ladybug's partner hadn't been nearly as compatible with the replacement girl they'd had to use. They had lost the finals with a wide score margin for the first time in Marinette's lifetime—the last time had apparently been over twenty years ago. But regardless, no one had tried to bring Ladybug back into the limelight. They couldn't. Nobody aside from the owners of the dance club knew her real name or even what she looked like: All dancers from the club that entered in competitions used aliases and wore masks of some sort to hide their faces. It was the club's best-known policy, probably to protect their dancers from any unwanted publicity. Ladybug was lost to anonymity.

“I doubt she is,” Marinette said. “She quit for a reason. I mean, she danced for them for what, twenty-something years? She's got to be in her thirties or forties at least. She can't keep dancing forever, and swing dancing looks like it would suck up a lot of energy.”

“Well, if what I've researched about Ladybug for my blog is true …” Alya replied slowly, “it might not have been the same person going by the name Ladybug that whole time. There's a lot of evidence that suggests there might have been several girls who danced as Ladybug.” She waggled her phone at Marinette again. “And if that's true, they might be looking for a new Ladybug!”

Marinette turned back to the warm-up bar as their teacher entered the room. “You're obsessed,” she teased her friend.

“Hey, when they announce that Ladybug's entering this year's competition, I'm totally going to say 'I told you so,'” Alya retorted playfully, stuffing her phone into her bag and joining Marinette at the bar.

Marinette laughed. “Dream on, Alya.”

It was hard to stay focused on class after hearing news like that, though. Marinette found her mind repeatedly wandering to thoughts of the dance club, wondering if it would be worth a visit. Her fear of embarrassing herself was still present, but with the lowered age limit there was sure to be at least one or two other people embarrassing themselves as well. Not to mention that the mandatory anonymity of the dancers at the club would serve greatly to minimize any losses to her dignity. On the other hand, dance clubs meant late nights out on town, something her parents would not be very keen on.

But she really wanted to try swing dancing at least once …

By the time lunch break rolled around, Marinette had decided. She would visit tonight and give it a try. If it didn't work out, well, it wouldn't be a massive loss. If it did work out, she could make it a more regular thing.

After all, what could be the worst that happened?

~

Marinette fidgeted in the small line outside Kwami Dance Club waiting for it to open and wondered if this had really been a good idea. From the glimpses she'd gotten of the people in line in front of her, there didn't seem to be any other teenagers coming, and the thought that she might be the only one under eighteen was a little daunting. The line began creeping forward. She stood on tiptoe to see what was going on, and just managed to catch a glimpse of a neon “Open” sign blinking in the window of the club. Her fidgeting got worse. Should she just leave now? No one would notice or care if somebody got out of the line. There were perhaps between twenty and thirty people here tops.

But the line crawled slowly through the door, and Marinette couldn't bring herself to leave. Something in her wanted to take the chance no matter how terrified she was. Before she knew it, she was next in line to go inside. She stepped in with nervous excitement.

“Welcome to Kwami Dance Club!” Marinette had no sooner stepped through the door than she was greeted by a petite woman with bobbed cherry-red hair. The woman was dressed in a smart little red suitcoat and a flouncy red skirt that, overall, looked more suited for office wear than dancing. She was beaming from ear to ear, and she offered a hand to Marinette to shake. “I'm Tikki, one of the owners and dance instructors for the club. What's your name?” Her blue eyes gleamed merrily.

“Um, Marinette.”

Tikki's smile grew, if possible, even wider. “It's wonderful to meet you, Marinette. Will this be your first time swing dancing?”

Marinette nodded. “I've danced before, just not swing.”

“I'll teach you some of the basics, then. You should be able to pick up quickly if you have dance experience. But first, you'll be needing a mask.” Tikki moved over to a small box beside the door and gestured for Marinette to step in away from the doorway. She lifted up a simple red, sequined domino mask from the box and offered it to Marinette. “Since this is your first time, we won't give you a permanent mask or alias. Just in case you decide swing dancing isn't your thing.”

Marinette accepted the mask and put it on, adjusting it until it was snug in place. “So what should I call myself while I'm here? Or am I supposed to just use my name?”

“You can use your first initial for tonight,” Tikki answered. She offered her hand to Marinette again, this time obviously to lead her towards where several masked pairs were already dancing to the lively music blaring throughout the club. “I'll show you the basic step and then let you practice for a little while, okay? If anyone offers to partner up just let them know you're new. They'll know what to do.”

“Okay,” Marinette agreed. She allowed Tikki to lead her onto the dance floor, near the edge where there was less of a risk of them being run into.

“There's a few different ways to swing dance,” Tikki explained, shifting to face Marinette and taking hold of both of her hands. She was so short that her head barely reached Marinette's shoulders. “There's an open and a closed position, but most people will use the open position. Don't worry about the closed position for now. So, the open position just means you'll be holding your partner's hands like this instead of being in a traditional ballroom position.”

“So closed is the ballroom position?”

“Yup!” Tikki nodded. “Now, there's three different steps that you can use. There's the pivot step, the rock step, and the side pivot. I'll teach you the side pivot first. It's really easy. Step to your right, with your left foot, and I'll step to my right”—she did so, and waited for Marinette to follow suit—“and now bring your right foot to your left and pivot so you're facing front again.” Again, she waited until Marinette had done so before continuing. “And now you go the other way, right foot first. Bring your left foot to your right, pivot, and that's it!” She demonstrated and smiled at Marinette. “Not too hard, right?”

“Not at all,” Marinette agreed. She could handle this. There wasn't even a risk of stepping on the other person's foot like there was in ballroom dancing. Any lingering fears of embarrassing herself evaporated.

“Great.” Tikki was still beaming widely. “Do you want to try it in time to the music?”

Marinette turned her attention to the music to listen for the beat. It wasn't extremely fast, but it wasn't exactly slow, either. As long as she focused on what she was doing, though, she ought to be fine. “I guess I can give it a try.”

“Here we go, then!” Tikki counted off a measure aloud to allow Marinette to prepare herself, and then started dancing to the music.

Marinette stumbled a little for the first minute or so—it was hard to remember to step first with the foot _opposite_ the direction you were going in—but she more or less got the hang of it after that. The other tricky part was getting used to the fact that Tikki was moving in the opposite direction that she was, rather than in the same direction as was the case with most ballroom dances.

“I think you've got it down pat pretty well,” Tikki approved after a few minutes. She came to a halt and gave Marinette an encouraging smile. Really, Marinette didn't think Tikki had _stopped_ smiling at all this entire time. Her lips seemed to naturally curve upwards with cheer. “Would you like to learn some other swing styles, or would you rather just stick with the side pivot for now?”

“Um … I think I'll just stick with this for now,” Marinette decided. Better not overwhelm herself with too many different styles while she was just starting out.

Tikki released Marinette's hands. “All right. I'll let you mingle for a little while. Can't keep you all to myself all night, after all. If somebody offers to dance with you, just let them know you're new. They'll stick to basics.” She winked. “Although you're more than welcome to let them teach you a move or two if you want.”

“Sounds good,” Marinette agreed.

“Have fun!” Tikki began to walk away, then stopped abruptly and backtracked over to her. “Oh, before I forget, if you need help with anything or have any questions and you can't find me, don't hesitate to go to Plagg. He's over by the door right now, but once the line is gone he'll mingle.” She pointed over to a man dressed in a smart gray suit with a newsboy cap tugged down over sleek black hair. His back was to them at the moment, hiding his face from view, but Marinette was willing to bet that, like Tikki, he went without a mask. He wouldn't be that hard to find in a room full of masked people.

“I will,” Marinette promised. “Thanks, Tikki.”

“You're welcome.” Tikki beamed and then skipped off into the crowd of dancers. She was quickly lost to sight.

~

The second time Marinette went to Kwami Dance Club was a week later—she hadn't been entirely sure if she wanted to make it a regular activity or not. But ultimately, the vibrant atmosphere and lively dance had nagged at her memory, drawing her back, until she couldn't help giving in. After Tikki's departure, several people had offered to dance with her and had taught her some basic turns and dips. It had been a pleasant change from the rigid, assigned partners method employed at the dance academy.

And so here she was, standing in line outside the dance club and shuffling her weight from one foot to the other impatiently.

When it was her turn to enter, she was greeted once again by Tikki, whose face lit up with excitement. “Marinette! You came back! It's great to see you again!”

“It's great to be back,” she admitted shyly. Even though she'd only been here once before, the building was full of warm familiarity, like coming home.

Tikki's trademark smile broadened. “Can we expect you to be coming in on a regular basis?”

“Definitely,” Marinette promised.

“Yes!” Tikki darted forward and wrapped Marinette up in a tight hug. “I was hoping you would. You were such a quick learner the last time you came in, and you looked like you had a lot of fun. It would have been a pity if you quit.” She pulled back. “In that case, it's time to give you a permanent alias. I have the perfect one for you. Follow me!”

Marinette allowed Tikki to lead her off to the side of the building, where there was a room that looked to be a small office along with several closed doors. Tikki went into the office and gestured for Marinette to join her. When they were both inside, Tikki shut the door.

“So,” Tikki said, turning around to face Marinette again, “I have a really special alias in mind for you, Marinette. But of course I want to make sure you're okay with it first.” She crossed the room to the box that Marinette recognized from last time as containing the masks they handed out. Out of the box, Tikki withdrew a red mask with five distinct black spots, and she held it out towards Marinette. “Ta-da! I'd like to make you the next Ladybug!”

_What?_

“Me, Ladybug?” Marinette sputtered. “But—I'm still learning! I hardly know any moves at all! You have loads of dancers better than _me_.”

“You're a very fast learner, Marinette,” Tikki reminded her. “I've never seen someone with such a knack for swing dancing. You could be one of the best we've ever had, if you practice and keep learning. And of course we would keep it quiet that there's a new Ladybug until you reached a level where you would be comfortable with the news being publicized. Plagg and I are pretty good at keeping things hushed up.” Again, she offered the mask to Marinette. “You have every right to refuse. But I'm certain that you have what it takes.”

Marinette hesitated. Sure, it was flattering that Tikki thought she deserved to be the next Ladybug, but how certain could Tikki really be after she had only visited once? Aside from which being Ladybug would mean endless publicity once it was out that a new Ladybug had been chosen. She wasn't sure if she wanted that kind of attention.

“You can always back out later,” Tikki added. “This isn't a binding lifelong contract or anything.”

Marinette bit her lip. That open-endedness sweetened the idea. And being Ladybug _would_ probably mean more chances to dance. “You _really_ think I can be Ladybug?”

“Absolutely.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Marinette reached out and took the spotted mask from Tikki's hands.

~

“Marinette! Oh my God, you're never going to believe this!” Alya gushed, running up to Marinette in the hallway outside the practice studio. As usual, she had her phone in hand, and she held it just far enough from Marinette's face that she didn't need to go cross-eyed to see it. Alya's blog was on the screen, with a dim photo over a post headline. “Look what I found! There's a rumor that there was a Ladybug sighting at the Kwami Dance Club last night! I told you they were probably looking for a new one!”

Marinette's heart leapt up into her throat. Sure, there had so far been no obvious publicity of the fact that a new Ladybug was on the scene, but Alya could be alarmingly resourceful in her tenacity. All she could do was hope that Alya's blog wasn't too popular. Otherwise the new Ladybug was going to be in the public eye far before she was ready. She swallowed nervously. _Lie_.

“It's just a rumor, though, right?” she pointed out. “Shouldn't you wait for some more concrete proof than just a rumor before telling people that Ladybug is back?”

“Where there's smoke, there's fire,” Alya replied with a grin. “And this, Marinette, is some pretty thick smoke. Granted, the photo's not very good, but still. Oh, and also I hear we're getting a new student today,” she added as they entered the studio.

“What's her name?”

Alya's grin broadened. “You mean _his_ name. The one and only Adrien Agreste is joining our class. Apparently his dad decided he could stop taking private lessons or something.”

Marinette's heart, which had finally begun to settle back into place, now leapt up into her throat a second time. “ _Adrien Agreste_ is joining our class?”

“Today,” Alya confirmed.

“Oh my God.” Adrien Agreste was even more famous throughout Paris than Ladybug was. He was not only a talented dancer, but also an up-and-coming model for his father's fashion lines. His name and face were plastered all over billboards and magazines across France. And he was incredibly handsome. Marinette would never admit it to anyone save Alya, but she had a monstrous celebrity crush on Adrien Agreste. “And you're only telling me this _now?_ When I look like such a mess?”

“Chill, girl, you look fine,” Alya assured her before Marinette could enter full panic mode. “It's not like he's going to be scrutinizing your appearance anyway.”

“But first impressions are im—”

“All right, class, everyone to the bar,” Miss Bustier instructed as she entered the room. Marinette and Alya, along with the rest of the students, moved to the bar obediently. Side conversations stopped as all attention was turned to their primary dance instructor. “As you may have already heard, we have a new student who will be joining us today.” She gestured towards the doorway, and a tall, blond-haired boy entered and joined her at the front of the room.

“This is Adrien Agreste,” Miss Bustier went on. “Please, all of you, do your best to make him feel welcome.”

All of the breath left Marinette's lungs in a rush. Alya hadn't been kidding about him joining. Oh, _God_ , he was even cuter in person. What was she going to say to him? How was she even going to manage to get any words out at all? What if she made a fool of herself in front of him?

Compared to talking to Adrien Agreste, she realized, being Ladybug was going to be a cinch.

 


	2. Chat Noir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug needs a partner, and fast, if she wants to be able to participate in Paris' annual swing dance competition. But so far she hasn't "clicked" with anyone. Plagg may have just the guy she's looking for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same disclaimer as before. Any discrepancies or errors regarding the dancing is purely the fault of my inexperience. Although I just joined a social dance club that's teaching swing dance moves, so hopefully errors will be kept to a minimum from here on out. The swing style used in the story is still a hybrid.  
> EDIT: My personal playlist for this chapter -  
> Sing, Sing, Sing - BBC Big Band Orchestra  
> Mr. Pinstripe Suit - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy  
> A Cool Cat in Town - Tape Five  
> Jumpin' Jack - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy  
> When It Comes to Love - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

“The paper had another article about Ladybug today,” Marinette reported to Tikki as she changed into the usual red and black outfit she wore for dancing at the Kwami Dance Club. “Mostly theories about why she's suddenly shown up again.”

“They'll have a lot of articles like that for the next month or so,” Tikki replied from the other side of the changing room door. “The hype should die down after that until it's time for the swing competition.”

Marinette put on her spotted mask and opened the door. “I don't mind the articles too much. It's all just conjecture, and none of the reporters ever come snooping around. I just thought you might like to know they wrote another one.”

Tikki, who had been leaning against the wall, straightened up and smiled. “Well, it _is_ interesting to hear what they write about Ladybug in the papers,” she agreed. She gestured towards the office door, beyond which was the dance floor of the club. “Ready to see if you can find a partner for the competition?”

Marinette made a face but started towards the door anyway. “As ready as I'll ever be.” This had been the routine for the past few days; with the annual swing dance competition coming up in just over a couple of months, she had to find a partner fast if she wanted to compete. So far none of the other club regulars had clicked for her—dancing with them either felt awkward or was terribly confusing. But there were quite a few who only came a few days a week, or once a week, and so every night she tried dancing with someone else to see if it might be different this time. She was beginning to worry she might have to settle for one of the dancers who was the least awkward to partner with, or stay out of the competition entirely.

Tikki gave Marinette a sympathetic smile of understanding and led her out to the dance floor. She then beckoned over one of the clubgoers who had not yet partnered up with anyone, and gestured for him to invite Ladybug—Marinette—to dance with him. The man, masked like all the other regulars at the club, offered a hand to Ladybug.

 _Please, let this one be the one_ , she prayed silently to whatever deity might be listening. She took the man's hand and let him walk her to the middle of the dance floor before assuming the familiar open position.

Her prayer went unheeded; the man was clearly a newer regular who had not yet learned most of the moves Ladybug knew. Beyond an occasional spin out and back in, and a single use of a pencil turn, he stuck with the basic step. It was mind-numbingly dull for Marinette, who over the past few weeks as Ladybug had made it her task to learn and master as many moves as she could. She tried to scan the crowd for more seasoned dancers without looking like she was doing so.

Finally, the torturous dance was over, and she hastily thanked the man before scurrying back to the edge of the room where Tikki waited. “No go,” she reported.

Tikki's smile only dropped a little at the corners. “Not him, either? You're starting to run out of options, Ladybug. If you can't pick someone then you're going to be out of luck.”

Marinette sighed. “I know,” she assured Tikki. “But I just don't seem to click with anyone.”

Tikki opened her mouth to reply, then appeared to catch sight of someone behind Marinette. Her smile broadened, her blue eyes sparking with anticipation. “Maybe you'll get lucky tonight,” she remarked, and then stepped past Marinette to welcome over Plagg, her fellow instructor at the club.

“Hey, Tikki,” Plagg greeted her, propping his elbow on his partner's shoulder. “You still looking for somebody for Ladybug?”

Tikki raised an eyebrow at him without dropping her smile. “What do you think?”

Plagg smirked in response. “In that case, I may have just the guy for you,” he informed her. “He's new, but he catches on fast.” He rubbed his fingers together in the universal gesture for money. “And he offered to pay handsomely for the two of us to provide a partner and a personal lesson for the evening.”

Tikki reached up and yanked Plagg's newsboy cap down over his face. “We don't take money from newbies,” she scolded playfully. “You know that. Where's this boy of yours?”

He pulled his cap back up, his dark hair looking very rumpled, and gave Tikki a mischievous smile. “I never said I took the payment. Follow me.” With that, he turned around and began to weave through the pairs on the dance floor.

Tikki heaved a good-natured sigh, then started after Plagg with a gesture for Ladybug to follow. Marinette trailed behind them and hoped Plagg knew what he was talking about. She wasn't very familiar with Tikki's partner beyond the fact that he was the second owner and instructor at the dance club; most of the time, if she had questions about a dance move or something of that sort, she went to Tikki. But Tikki listened to Plagg, so Marinette supposed she might as well take his word for it.

Plagg stopped beside a tall blond-haired boy wearing a black domino mask and pushed him towards Ladybug gently. “Chat Noir, Ladybug. Ladybug, Chat Noir. I think you'll find his style to your liking.”

“Chat Noir?” Marinette echoed. _Black cat?_ It seemed an awful silly name—but then again, she was named after a beetle, so she was one to talk.

The boy, Chat Noir, grinned and swept her a well-practiced bow. “At your service, Ladybug.”

She looked him over with a skeptical eye. He was certainly attractive enough, as far as she could tell (the mask made it a little hard to decide for sure). The only question was whether he would prove to be a good dance partner or not. Attractiveness was hardly an objective way to choose a partner, after all. She offered her hand to him. “Shall we?”

Chat Noir took her hand and kissed the back of it. “It would be my pleasure.”

She raised her eyebrow at him as she guided him away from the wall to where they would have more room to dance. “Are you always like this with your dance partners?”

“I was raised to be a gentleman,” he replied with a playful spark in his green eyes. He took hold of her other hand and assumed the standard open position, then glanced over at where Plagg and Tikki were still standing by the wall. “So are you going to help me learn, or am I on my own since you didn't accept the money?”

Plagg stepped over with his usual smirk, taking Tikki's hand to lead her onto the dance floor with him. “Oh, we'll help you,” he promised. “But you've got a seasoned partner. I don't think you'll be needing us very much.” He stopped right beside them, and then he and Tikki went into the closed position, his hand snug around Tikki's waist and her hand up on his shoulder. “Don't bother copying this dance position for now. You'll kill yourself trying.”

Chat, who had begun to pull Ladybug towards him for the closed position, released her back to the open position and frowned at Plagg. “So why are you doing it, then?”

“Because we're more experienced than you,” Plagg replied matter-of-factly. “And Ladybug prefers …”

She realized he was fishing for her preferred basic step. “Side pivot,” she supplied.

“Side pivot,” Plagg finished. “So don't follow the rock step Tikki and I use. You really will kill yourself if you try. Or at least humiliate yourself.”

Chat Noir frowned again, but didn't protest.

“What steps do you know already?” Tikki asked Chat, clearly trying to brighten his mood a little. “Why don't you show us? Ladybug knows most everything, so she'll follow just fine.”

He glanced at Ladybug in question, and she nodded to confirm that Tikki was right. “Just the basics, really,” he answered Tikki. He led Ladybug in the basic step and then moved into a simple outside turn. Marinette had to admit that for a beginner he led very smoothly. There was no trace of uncertainty in his movements. He pulled her back in from the turn and went straight into Cupid's bow—draping their arms over one another's shoulders and then sliding down to grab the extended wrist, then giving her a spin and moving back to the standard position. Then he led her into the sweetheart position for a pencil turn. “That's about it.”

“Not bad,” Tikki approved with a smile when he had released Ladybug after the turn. “Would you like to learn a dip? They're good for ending a dance.”

Chat brightened at the praise. “I'd love to.”

“We'll just do the basic dip, then,” Plagg decided. “It's the easiest, and you're least likely to drop her with that one.”

“I wouldn't drop her!” Chat protested.

Plagg ignored him. “Ready, Tikki?”

“Ready,” Tikki confirmed. The two of them fell into the rock step as if they had been dancing their entire lives—which, Marinette supposed, wasn't that far from the truth. Their moves had a fluidity that only came with constant practice and years of experience. Plagg spun Tikki with an inside turn and went straight into a dip so low that Tikki was almost parallel with the floor.

“And that's it,” Plagg concluded as he lifted Tikki back up. “You do the inside turn, and keep spinning her. You have to guide her hand to your shoulder”—he demonstrated by spinning Tikki again and pausing when he had pulled her hand over his shoulder—“and put your other hand on her back if it's not there already. Then you let go of her hand, support her shoulder from underneath the arm, and dip.” He finished the demonstration by dipping Tikki and pulling her back up. “And don't drop her. Although,” he added, “she's holding onto you around the shoulders, so if you do drop her, she probably won't fall.”

“I'm not going to drop her,” Chat insisted.

Plagg gestured for him to try the dip. “Give it a try, then.”

Chat sighed but did as he was told, moving slowly now as he tried to get the hang of the new move. His arms shook a little when he lowered Ladybug into the dip, but, true to his word, he didn't drop her. He lifted her back up and glanced at Plagg to gauge his reaction.

“Pretty good for a first try,” Plagg decided. “Just make sure she has a good grip on your shoulders before you do the dip. And don't dip her any lower than you're comfortable with, even if you think it looks better lower. Try it again.”

Chat nodded and resumed the basic step. Marinette noticed with interest that he was already moving up to speed with the music. When he did the dip this time, it was at full speed, and the shake in his arms was gone. He pulled her back up with no apparent effort. “How was that?”

Tikki stared at Chat Noir with both eyebrows raised, and then turned to stare at Plagg instead. Plagg looked smug but not surprised. He paid Tikki no heed. “Better,” he replied. “It would have been perfect if you weren't making faces while you were trying to decide how low to dip her.”

Chat shrugged. “You said not to dip her lower than I was comfortable with. I wanted to see how low I could go.”

Plagg laughed brightly. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “All right, Chat Noir, let's see what else you can handle. We'll try armbreaker.”

Chat Noir's eyebrows went up in obvious question, but he didn't protest.

By the time an hour had passed, Plagg and Tikki had taught Chat not only armbreaker, but also the super dip, the double spin, the Titanic, and the palm turn. Marinette, for her part, was very impressed. It only took Chat one or two tries to learn the move, and then he was able to do it fluidly with no trouble. He was just as fast a learner as Plagg had promised. She was somewhat disappointed that her time at the dance club was nearly at an end for the night. She enjoyed dancing with this boy. But the clock said it was five minutes to ten, and her parents only allowed her to attend on the condition that she didn't stay later than ten o'clock.

“I have to go,” she told Tikki reluctantly.

Tikki turned to look at the clock, saw the time, and then turned back to Marinette and nodded her understanding. “That's all right. I think Chat Noir has learned enough for one night.” She gave the boy a cheerful wink. “He can review with me. You go on home.”

Marinette glanced at Chat Noir. “Will I see you again tomorrow night?”

He visibly brightened, his lips spreading in a wide grin. “Every night,” he promised.

She smiled back—his joy was infectious. “Tikki, I think I've got my partner now.”

~

“It's been a while since you chose a Chat Noir,” Tikki remarked to Plagg as they closed up the club for the night. “You must really like that boy.”

“What about you? Choosing a new Ladybug after almost two years.”

She smiled to herself. “Compared to the ten years it's been since we had a Chat Noir, I don't think two years is very long,” she pointed out. She locked the doors and turned to face him. “What are you up to, Plagg? Resurrecting the Chat Noir and Ladybug duo all of a sudden?”

Plagg adjusted his cap and smirked. “You saw how well they clicked. With the Chat Noir-Ladybug power couple, I think we might finally beat Papillon this year.”

~

“So the theories in that article yesterday were crazy,” Alya remarked to Marinette as they headed into the practice studio the next morning. “Did you see them? All this stuff about the old Ladybug getting an injury that kept her from dancing and coming back now because she's all healed up, or the new Ladybug being some foreigner trying to make their debut in France, and a bunch of other weird ideas. I wrote a post about it for the Ladyblog.”

“If you're so curious about why Ladybug's back, why don't you just go to the Kwami Dance Club and ask her?” Marinette reasoned. She was used to Alya's rants about the Ladybug articles that got published—every time there was a new one, Alya would go on and on about how this one didn't take into account this fact, and that one didn't make any sense even _with_ all the facts straight, and so on and so forth.

“Don't tempt me,” Alya replied. She started to say something else, but cut off within the first syllable as she saw a notice on the wall. “Ugh, it's partner swap time again. Who am I stuck with this time?”

Marinette silently crossed her fingers and hoped she would be partnered up with Adrien. Chloé had been partnered with him thus far by virtue of being the only one he knew upon joining their class. She began looking down the list for her name.

“You've got to be kidding,” Alya said. “Nino? Really? _Again?_ He was my last partner before Max!”

“We're bound to get repeats every now and then,” Marinette pointed out with a laugh. “And you and Nino dance well together.” She resumed searching the list for her name. “Help me find my partner.”

“You're at the top,” Alya informed her, pointing. “Your partner's name comes first alphabetically.”

Marinette's gaze snapped to the top of the list. Sure enough, there was her name—right across from Adrien Agreste. She let out an excited squeal and bounced on her toes. “I'm with Adrien! I'm partnered with Adrien! I get to dance with him!”

“I can see it now,” Alya joked. “You're gonna be tripping all over your own feet because you'll be too nervous about dancing with him.”

“Hey!” Marinette elbowed her teasingly. “I will not!” She paused. “At least, I hope not …”

“I'm sure you'll be fine,” Alya assured her.

Just then, none other than Adrien himself came into the room. “Morning,” he greeted them with his usual sweet smile that made Marinette's heart skip a beat or two. He approached and looked at the list. “New partner assignments? I didn't think we'd be switching so soon.”

Marinette tried to explain, but all that came out was a squeak. Alya swooped to the rescue. “We swap every month,” she told Adrien. “Just so that we don't have the same partner all the time.”

“Oh.” Adrien looked at the list, and then turned to Marinette. “So we're partners for the month? I'm looking forward to it.”

She fumbled to reply, her mind blank. How was she supposed to dance with him when she could hardly even talk to him? “M-me too,” she finally managed to stammer. Her face was burning with embarrassment.

Adrien smiled and then went to set his bag down across the room.

“You're doomed,” Alya remarked to Marinette.

Marinette had to agree with her on that.

 


	3. Never Let You Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir is still fairly new to Kwami Dance Club, but he wants to take the next step and learn some aerial moves. But keeping Ladybug from falling will be harder than he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh I'm so sorry it took me so long to update! Things have been hectic lately, and for a while I had a broken keyboard and wasn't getting much of anything written. Thank you so much for your patience. Hopefully there won't be such a long delay between this chapter and the next.  
> My personal playlist for this chapter:  
> Come On With the "Come On" -- Big Bad Voodoo Daddy (most of my swing music is from this band honestly)  
> When It Comes to Love -- Big Bad Voodoo Daddy  
> Haven't Met You Yet -- Michael Buble  
> King of Swing -- Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

“Rule number one of aerials,” Plagg said, holding up one finger. “The girl's safety comes before your own. Always. You drop her, you do your damnedest to catch her before she hits the floor.”

“Why are you so convinced I'm going to drop her?” Chat Noir demanded. He had been coming to the Kwami Dance Club for a week now, not missing a single night, and had requested that Tikki and Plagg teach him how to do aerials tonight. Apparently he'd seen another pair doing a particularly fancy aerial last night and now he wanted to learn it too. Ladybug wasn't entirely sure it was a good idea, but both Tikki and Plagg had agreed without hesitation. So here they were, Plagg going over what he called the “essential rulebook” of aerial stunts.

Plagg seemed unruffled by Chat's frustration. “It happens to the best of us,” he pointed out. “Even Tikki's taken a spill or two before.” Tikki nodded to confirm, and Plagg continued. “Rule number two. If the girl isn't comfortable with doing the aerial, you don't do it. She's the one who's getting flipped around and she has a right to refuse.”

“These all sound like common sense,” Chat argued. Ladybug personally agreed. She had learned some simple aerials a couple of weeks back and had never had to worry about learning these rules of Plagg's beforehand.

Plagg ignored him. “Rule number three. Support her with your whole body. Arms, legs, hips, shoulders, whatever's in contact. You never support with just the arms. That's a surefire way to drop her.” Chat opened his mouth, presumably to repeat the argument that he wasn't going to drop Ladybug, and Plagg talked louder. “Rule number four. Prep before you lift her. You have to ground yourself or you'll both end up falling.”

Chat frowned. “Any other obvious rules for me to learn?”

“That's it,” Plagg promised. He gestured for Tikki to move into the closed position with him, and she did so with her usual smile. “Keep those in mind whenever you're doing an aerial. You drop her, you have only yourself to blame.” To Tikki, he added, “Cherry bomb.”

Cherry bomb was one Ladybug was familiar with. She followed mentally as Tikki was twisted into the position for armbreaker and then lifted off the ground in a jump and dipped backwards. Plagg set her all the way down only once she had regained her footing. “That's a fairly simple one you can try,” he explained to Chat Noir. Ladybug turned to her partner and saw his eyes were wide as saucers.

“Simple?” Chat echoed.

“Simple,” Plagg repeated. He looked rather like he was trying not to laugh. “This is one of the best ones to start with. Give it a try, slowly.”

Ladybug moved to Chat and let him take her hands in his. “It's really not that bad,” she assured him. “Plagg's just teasing.”

“Start by getting into armbreaker,” Plagg instructed.

Chat went slowly, even more slowly than he had gone when Plagg had taught him the keyhole, despite the fact that armbreaker was one of the first moves he had learned. Ladybug tried to give him a reassuring smile to help him relax, but she wasn't sure it had any effect at all. Chat paused when they were in the position for armbreaker.

“All right, see how your hips are touching? You're going to use your hip as a support for her when she jumps.” Plagg pulled Tikki back into the position for armbreaker and braced his hip against hers to demonstrate. “So put as much weight on your right foot as you can.”

Ladybug felt Chat shift his weight towards where their hips were touching.

“Good,” Plagg approved. “Now the girl jumps, and your job is just to catch her. She'll jump so her legs go over the one you're supporting her with, so catch her behind the shoulders. Don't let her crack her head open on the floor.” As he was talking, Tikki jumped as before, and he caught her and swung her down into the full dip without taking his eyes off Chat Noir and Ladybug.

Chat still looked a little nervous. “Okay,” he said.

“You'll do fine,” Ladybug whispered to him. In the span of this past week, she had learned to trust Chat Noir like no other. He picked things up quickly and seemed to instinctively know how to do the moves well. He was a godsend, in a way. “I know you can do it.”

Rather than relax, Chat pursed his lips anxiously. “I hope so,” he whispered in reply.

“Any day now,” Plagg yawned.

Tikki gave Plagg a playful smack on the arm. “Quit your teasing, you.” To Chat, she added, “Whenever you feel ready.”

Chat Noir was pursing his lips so tight now that the skin around them had turned whitish. He let out a long, low breath through his nose and then nodded to Ladybug that she could jump when she wanted.

Sending up a silent prayer that Chat would pull through as he always had before and catch her, Ladybug jumped.

Sure enough, despite all his nervousness, he caught her safely and securely, and she was swung in and out of the aerial dip with ease so smooth that it seemed practiced. As soon as her feet were back on the floor Chat was looking her over with a worried furrow between his brows.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, and then, before she could answer, “Was that too low?”

She shook her head. “I'm fine. You did fine, Chat.” The tension visibly drained from his shoulders.

“It'll do,” Plagg drawled, earning himself another playful smack from Tikki. “I've seen worse.”

“That was brilliant for a first try and you know it,” Tikki corrected him.

“Just make sure you keep yourself braced while you're setting her down,” Plagg finished as if Tikki hadn't spoken. “Support her until she's back on her feet.”

Chat frowned. “I thought I did.”

Plagg shook his head and explained, “You stopped as soon as you started to straighten. Remember, you're the only thing standing between her head and the floor.”

“Plagg, stop scaring him,” Tikki scolded.

“I don't want him cracking Ladybug's head open on the floor,” Plagg defended himself.

“I know,” Tikki assured him. “I don't either. But you're going to scare him off dancing entirely if you keep this up. Here,” she added to Chat Noir, “we'll demonstrate it again.” She grabbed Plagg's hands and went straight into the cherry bomb. Plagg, caught off-guard, recovered from his surprise just in time to brace her for the aerial.

“A bit more warning next time, little lady,” he requested, swinging her down low. “I don't want _your_ head cracking open on the floor either.”

Tikki laughed, utterly unrepentant. “I _did_ warn you. I told Chat we were demonstrating again,” she countered as he swung her back upright.

“That does not count.”

Ladybug turned to Chat. “Do you want to try again? I thought you did fine. And Tikki's right. Plagg's just trying to scare you.” She offered her hand to him.

Chat took a deep, shaky breath before accepting her hand and leading her into the armbreaker position.

“Support her,” Plagg cautioned as Chat braced Ladybug for the aerial.

“That's what I'm doing,” Chat muttered to himself, swinging Ladybug in and out of the dip. She smiled and tried not to laugh. Plagg _was_ being a bit ridiculous about this. It wasn't as if Chat was struggling to keep her in the air. She was deposited back on her feet safely.

“Ignore him,” she urged, keeping her voice low so Plagg wouldn't hear. “You're doing great.”

Still, Chat glanced Plagg's way as if for approval.

Plagg shot him a thumbs up. “Better. Keep practicing. Tikki and I will come back in a few minutes to teach you the double cherry bomb, if you're up to it.”

“I will be,” Chat promised. He looked back at Ladybug. “Shall we?”

Ladybug smiled. “We shall.” And she let Chat Noir take her hand and dance with her until they were both breathless.

~

“All right, pair up and give it a try,” Miss Bustier instructed the class. Everyone split off into their assigned pairs. Marinette looked up at Adrien and thought she was done for. Everything Miss Bustier had said seemed to vanish from her memory when his eyes met hers. She couldn't even remember which dance they were supposed to be doing.

“You ready?” he asked her, moving into the closed ballroom position and waiting for her to take his hand patiently.

“I sink though—I thick—I think so,” she stammered, although she felt anything but ready. She moved closer to him and took his hand. Oh, God, his hand was so warm, and he was holding on so _tight_ and how on earth was she supposed to _concentrate_ when—Adrien started dancing, and Marinette nearly tripped over her own feet in surprise. She let out a muffled squeak that was half knee-jerk reaction and half mortification.

Adrien's hand on her waist tightened its hold. “Relax,” he said with a smile. “I've got you. I won't let you fall.”

She bit her lip, her heart hammering. This kind of proximity to Adrien was heavenly, but it did all sorts of things to her emotions. She wasn't sure she could take three more weeks of partnering with him. Her pounding heart might kill her before _this_ week was over. She was still tripping and stumbling, trying to feel her way into remembering what dance they were doing, when Adrien suddenly did something entirely different that actually _did_ make her trip over her own feet. Marinette yelped as she pitched forward and sent both herself and Adrien crashing to the cool, hard floor with a horrid thump.

Immediately, the rest of the class was coming to cluster around them with exclamations of concern. Except for Chloé, that is, who to no one's surprise was whining about Marinette trying to jump Adrien.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked Marinette, seemingly oblivious to their classmates surrounding them. “You're not hurt, are you?”

She shook her head mutely. She couldn't speak. He was worried for _her?_ When _he_ was the one who had taken the brunt of the fall? When _she_ was the _reason_ they'd fallen in the first place? She could feel the small celebrity crush she'd been nursing on him begin to blossom into something bigger, something entirely beyond her control. Then, belatedly, she registered that she was still on top of him, and she jumped to her feet. “I'm so sorry! I don't—I wasn't—I didn't—I mean—”

Adrien also got to his feet, and their classmates dispersed, seeing the spectacle was over. Chloé shot Marinette one final glare before going back to her partner.

“It's all right,” Adrien assured Marinette kindly. “Accidents happen. I'm just glad you weren't hurt.” He offered her another sunny smile and then took her hand in his. “Let's try again, okay? Slower this time. I'll catch you if you start to fall again.”

Marinette let him lead her across the dance floor in what she now could remember was the Viennese waltz, and marveled at the fact that he didn't seem to notice her heart fluttering a mile a minute when they were pressed so close together.

~

After class, Alya came running up to Marinette and grabbed her by the shoulders, looking her over for injuries. “Are you okay? That was a really bad fall earlier. I don't think I've ever heard a thud that loud before.” Marinette tried to reply that yes, she was fine, but Alya was already talking again. “Jeez, and here I was thinking that you were going to be able to dance with Adrien without tripping on yourself. What happened, girl?”

Marinette waited for a moment just to make sure Alya was actually done talking before she replied, “I forgot what we were supposed to be doing, and when he went to do the move we were learning, I tripped. I think he tried to catch me, but it just happened so _suddenly_ , and I—”

“Okay, don't beat yourself up over it,” Alya interrupted. “The important thing is that you and Adrien both came out of it okay. But seriously, Marinette, you need to work on acting like a normal human being around him. He's your dance partner, for heaven's sake. You're not going to get a good grade if you can't dance with him without nearly killing yourself.”

“I know,” Marinette said glumly. At least Adrien wouldn't get marked down for her incompetence. That was one small blessing. But still, she wished she were able to dance with him the way she could dance with every other boy in her class. If things continued the way they were, she might never get partnered with Adrien again. The teachers kept a _very_ sharp eye out for which students had better chemistry together as partners.

Alya sighed good-naturedly and gave Marinette an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Hang in there. You're a good dancer. I know you and Adrien could be an awesome pair together if you just get past this one little thing.”

Marinette looked over at her friend, half skeptical and half hopeful. “You think so?”

“I'm sure of it,” Alya insisted.

~

Tikki was sympathetic when Marinette recounted the story for her that night. Plagg, on the other hand, seemed to find it the height of hilarity and wouldn't say why. He just laughed and laughed, until finally Tikki sent him away to go look for Chat Noir. “Sometimes I wonder why I work with that man,” Tikki remarked, more to herself than to Marinette. Then she gave Marinette an encouraging smile. “Don't worry. We all fall at some point or another. Some of us just fall worse than others. I'm sure you and your partner will do great together.”

“Yeah,” Marinette mumbled, “if I can ever manage to act normal around him.”

She hadn't meant for Tikki to hear, but she clearly did, because her smile curled mischievously. “You can't act normal around him? Why not?”

Marinette bit her lip. “Promise not to tell anyone?”

Tikki raised her hand as if taking an oath. “You have my word.”

“My partner is a boy I really, really like,” Marinette admitted quietly. Her face flushed in embarrassment. “He just joined our class a little while ago, and I …”

“Ohhh.” Tikki gave her a playful nudge. “So Ladybug's in love, hmm? What's his name?”

“Adrien. Adrien Agreste.”

“What's this about Adrien Agreste?” a familiar voice asked from behind her. Ladybug spun and found herself face-to-face with Chat Noir. He took her hand and kissed it, as he always did. “Gossiping, my lady?”

“Just making small talk,” she replied. The grin on his face, as always, was infectious, and she found herself smiling back. “Plagg found you awful quick, didn't he?”

“Nabbed me as soon as I came through the door,” Chat confirmed. “So what's the plan for tonight? Learning more aerials?”

“If you feel up to it,” she said. She knew Chat had spent most of the previous night on tenterhooks, afraid of dropping her after Plagg's repeated warnings, and she felt a little sorry for him. She didn't want him to feel obligated to learn any other aerials if he wasn't ready for it.

“I do,” Chat assured her. “I'm willing to learn, as long as you're willing to trust I won't let you fall.”

“I trust you,” Ladybug promised him without hesitation.

“If you two are done being sappy …” Plagg cut in, raising an eyebrow at the two of them, “let's start you off with coathanger tonight. Ladybug, I don't think this is one you've learned yet either, so we'll go slower.” He held out his hand, and Tikki took it without having to be asked. They fell into the rock step with an easy tandem that Ladybug still couldn't help envying. Then Tikki was spun out, she jumped into Plagg's arms, and it was like watching a peculiar version of Twister while Plagg helped her to swing her leg over his head to latch around his other shoulder. Tikki swung her other leg around and hooked her ankles together, then took a tight hold of Plagg's arm and let herself swing to hang upside down. Plagg spun her around like that in a fast but controlled circle. When he stopped, Tikki pulled herself back up, and he helped her to her feet.

“And that's it,” Plagg concluded. “We'll walk you through it this time. Chat, I'll take your lady this time, if you don't mind.” He held Tikki's hand out to Chat. “Swap. This way you can both learn at the same time without Tikki and I having to worry about injuries.”

Chat hesitated a moment before taking Tikki's hand from Plagg. Something told Marinette that he was as reluctant to dance with a different partner as she was. Plagg offered his hand to her, and she accepted it and hoped he and Tikki knew what they were doing. She was quite a bit taller than Tikki, after all, and Plagg wasn't very tall himself. There was maybe an inch's difference in height between the two of them. If Plagg was used to swinging around someone a good six inches shorter than her and probably several pounds lighter than her as well, this might make things harder for him.

At the very least, Plagg remembered that she preferred the side pivot to the rock step. He started the former without question. “Coathanger is fairly simple once you know it,” he explained to her. He spun her into the sweetheart position and then out. “From here, you're going to come back in and jump, okay?”

She nodded. Feeling him tug her hand, she followed the cue and moved back in. Once she was close enough, she jumped.

Despite her fears, Plagg caught her without any trouble. “Good. Just make sure that when you jump you have your hands up on your partner's shoulders. Makes it easier on the guy.” He waited for her to make the adjustment before continuing. “This next part is the first half of a move called can opener,” he told her. “I'm going to take your outside leg and help you to bring it over my head, and you have to swing your other leg across. Once you've got both legs around my right shoulder, you're going to hook your ankles together just like how you saw Tikki do it. On three, all right? One, two, three!” He shifted his hold, guiding her leg up towards his head. She swung her leg the rest of the way over, and brought her other leg across a second later. Hooking her ankles together was a little more difficult, since her feet were out of sight behind Plagg's back, but she managed somehow.

“No wonder Tikki made you Ladybug,” Plagg remarked. Before she could ask what he meant, he was already moving on to the next part. “Now I offer you my arm, you grab it with both hands—make sure you don't just grab with one or you might fall—and then you hang upside down. And I'll spin you.”

Marinette bit her lip but did as she was told. Again, despite her fears, Plagg had no difficulties in spinning her just as he had spun Tikki. He was stronger than she'd given him credit for. When someone danced with a woman as small as Tikki was, it was easy to write them off as not having much upper body strength. He finished the spin and pulled her back upright. Then it was as simple as unhooking her ankles and letting him set her down.

“There,” Plagg said, “that's not so bad as it looks, is it?”

“No,” she agreed. She turned to see how Chat Noir was faring. He seemed to be having quite a bit of fun, his face alight with a grin even brighter than usual. He had just finished spinning Tikki when she turned around, and Tikki guided him through the best way to set the girl down. Then Chat was led back over to Ladybug.

“He's all yours, Ladybug,” Tikki said, giving her Chat's hand. “Let's see if you can do it together.”

“Okay,” she agreed. She looked up at Chat. “Whenever you're ready.”

It started off seamlessly enough. Chat spun her into sweetheart, then out, she came back in, she jumped, he caught her. Then she started swinging her leg across over his head, and something went wrong. Her stomach lurched as she felt herself slip out of his arms. The next few instants seemed to happen in slow motion: Chat's eyes widened in realization and horror, and she fumbled and scrabbled to catch herself with no success. But when she squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the painful landing, it never came. Instead, she landed on something solid but soft that let out a loud “oof” when she hit it. She looked down and saw that Chat had somehow managed to throw himself underneath her to catch her.

Ladybug scrambled to her feet. “Oh my God, I'm sorry, Chat. Are you okay?”

Chat gave her a woozy but satisfied smile in reply. “Told you I would catch you,” he said.

“Okay, you were both at fault there,” Plagg informed them as Ladybug helped Chat to stand. “Chat Noir, you were holding her a little too high on her back. You need to support her more around the waist for this kind of hold. And Ladybug, you forgot to hold onto his shoulders. You might have been able to catch yourself before that happened otherwise. Take a five minute break and then give it another try.” He looked at Chat. “You were lucky you caught her before she hit the floor that time. If that happens again, you might not be so fortunate. 'Your' lady is your responsibility. Learn from your mistake and don't let it happen again. _This_ is why I go over those 'obvious' rules of mine.”

The scolding was rather uncharacteristic for Plagg. Even Ladybug felt chilled by the change in his attitude. Chat swallowed, his smile gone. “I understand.”

Plagg grinned, already back to his usual self. “Good. Take five. I'll be right back, after I go grab a little snack.”

“No smelly camembert this time!” Tikki called after him as he wove his way through the other dancers. She sighed and turned her attention back to Ladybug and Chat Noir. “I'm sorry about that. Plagg can be a little … nasty when someone drops their partner. He forgets sometimes that he used to drop me too.” She pursed her lips before adding, “He does have a point, though. We go over those aerial rules for a reason. It's awful when one of our dancers gets hurt because of a fall. So, Chat,”—she took his hands—“I'm trusting you to take very good care of Ladybug from here on out, okay? Let's make it a goal not to let her fall again.”

Chat wrapped his arm around Ladybug's shoulders, squeezing tightly. “All right, Tikki. I promise, I won't drop her a second time.”

 


	4. The Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time for Kwami Dance Club to choose its representatives for the competition has come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for making the wait between chapters shorter...final exams are almost upon me, so it might be a while before this is updated again. But c'est la vie.  
> My personal playlist for this chapter:  
> Why Should I Worry - Billy Joel  
> Maddest Kind of Love - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy  
> Jumpin' Jack - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

“So,” Tikki said, looking over a list she held in her hands, “it looks like we get three entry slots this year.”

Plagg jerked in surprise and peeked over her shoulder at the list. “Three? They've never given us three slots before.”

Tikki held the list out to him. “See for yourself.” He took it, and she returned her attention to Ladybug and Chat Noir. “That means we can enter three pairs in the competition this time around. You two are more than welcome to try entering if you want to. Plagg and I will be choosing pairs tomorrow night.”

Chat Noir and Ladybug exchanged glances. “Do you want to give it a try?” Chat asked. He looked more than willing, his eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

“Why do you think I was looking for a partner?” Ladybug asked in reply. She grinned at the way his face lit up. “Of course I want to give it a try. Besides, half of Paris already knows that Ladybug is back. It would be weird if she didn't enter the biggest competition of the year.”

“Great!” Tikki beamed at them both. “I'll put you guys down as a yes, then, and we'll see if you make it into the top three tomorrow night.”

“They'll make it,” Plagg said without taking his eyes off the list.

Tikki grabbed the bill of his cap and yanked it down over his face. “Quiet, you. We have to be fair about this. No favoritism.”

“Who said it was favoritism?” he retorted, his voice somewhat muted by the bill in front of his face.

“You can't say for sure that they're in until we've had our dance-off,” Tikki informed him. To Chat and Ladybug, she added, “We won't be teaching you anything new tonight. Just spend the time practicing. That's the best thing you can do if you're going to try to enter the competition.” Then she departed, dragging Plagg along with her, to ask the next pair of dancers if they were interested.

“A dance-off,” Chat mused. He turned to Ladybug. “What kind of dance-off do you think it is? There's a lot of different ways they could go with that.”

Ladybug shrugged. “Who knows? But I'm assuming we don't have to choreograph anything. Tikki would have said so otherwise.”

Chat took her hands in his and pulled her out onto the dance floor. “Well, for now, I guess a review of the stuff we've learned can't hurt. You want to give coathanger a shot?”

She tried not to cringe. They hadn't attempted coathanger since that first night, when he had nearly dropped her in the middle of the aerial. Neither of them had felt brave enough to try again after that particular scare.

“I swear I won't let you fall this time,” he promised.

Swearing not to drop her was all well and good, but there was no way to know for sure if he'd be able to carry through on that. _But_ , she supposed, the longer they went without trying it, the more likely it was they would screw it up whenever they chose to make another attempt. “All right,” she consented. “But let's go slowly.”

Despite not having tried the move for a few weeks, the steps were familiar—Plagg and Tikki had since taught them several other aerials, and many of them started like coathanger. Spin out from sweetheart, run in, jump. Chat caught her without any trouble. He shifted his hold on her legs and prepped to hoist her outside leg over his head. “You ready?” he asked. When she nodded, he swung her leg the rest of the way over.

This was it. This was the point where she had been dropped last time. Ladybug braced herself—just in case, she thought—and moved her other leg across to hook ankles with the first. Chat offered his arm to her, and she took hold with both hands and heaved an internal sigh of relief. She hadn't fallen. Thank God. She let herself fall backwards to hang upside down. Chat gave her a quick spin around, and then he was lifting her upright and setting her back on her feet.

“We did it,” he said with a relieved, satisfied grin.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “We did it.” She held out a fist. “Good job.”

Chat looked at her in confusion for a brief moment before comprehension dawned on his face, and he grinned again and tapped her fist with his own. “Good job,” he echoed. “What else do we want to try? Rolling pin, maybe?”

Ladybug allowed him to take her hands again and resumed the basic step. “You're the lead. Lead on, kitty cat.”

~

Marinette was getting better at dancing with Adrien as her partner. Granted, she had spent most of the first couple weeks tripping and stumbling, but after that she had gotten somewhat more used to being in close contact with him. She could _almost_ dance with him the way she could with the other boys in class.

That is, until now. Miss Bustier had announced yesterday after class that they were going to be shifting focus from the waltz to the tango—a district-wide competition amongst dance academies was coming up, and the school wanted to have at least one representing pair per class.

Normally, Marinette would have been thrilled. Participating in competitions was one of the best parts of attending a dance school. But they were choosing the representative pairs based on current partner assignments, so that students had enough time to prepare choreography. And that meant Marinette would be dancing the tango with Adrien. Which meant even greater proximity to him than she had had for the past four weeks. The newest list of partner assignments had just gone up, and they were still partnered together. Marinette strongly suspected it was because Miss Bustier was trying to make sure Adrien could partner well with at least one girl aside from Chloé. Hopping from partner to partner wasn't exactly conducive to strong teamwork. Hence the reason Alya and Nino were partnered together more often than not; they clicked exceedingly well, and it showed when they had to dance with someone else.

Marinette wasn't Alya, though, and Adrien wasn't Nino, and she knew that she was going to go right back to being a blushing, stuttering mess if she had to tango with Adrien.

“I'm doomed,” she moaned to Alya while they waited for class to start.

Alya patted her back comfortingly. “You'll be fine, girl. You haven't tripped and fallen since that first week partnering with him.”

“But we're doing the tango,” Marinette whimpered. “You know how close you have to be to your partner for the tango! It's going to be straight back to square one for me! No, more like square zero.”

Alya made a face. “Okay, you've got a point there,” she agreed. She took her phone out of her bag and started fiddling with it. “But you're more comfortable around him now, so it shouldn't be too hard for you to get used to tangoing with him. She elbowed Marinette playfully. “Maybe you'll even get to participate in the competition with him.”

Marinette flushed. “I doubt it.”

“Hey, you never know.” Alya scrolled through something on her phone and then held it out for Marinette to see. “And speaking of competitions, guess what scoop I managed to get? Rumors are saying Ladybug and Chat Noir are gonna enter the swing competition later this month! I told you Ladybug would enter!”

Marinette had forgotten about Alya's prediction. “Okay, you were right,” she conceded with a smile. “So are you going to be trying to sneak backstage at the competition to sneak some photos of her? Or are you just gonna watch?”

“I am _totally_ getting pics,” Alya replied with an ambitious gleam in her eyes. Anything else she said after that went over Marinette's head; Adrien had just walked in the room and was looking at the new partner assignments. His head swiveled to search for her seconds later. He smiled when he caught sight of her, and gave her a tiny wave before going to put his bag down.

She was so, so doomed.

Alya's fingers snapped in front of Marinette's face, jolting her from her thoughts. “Earth to Marinette. You in there, girl?” She followed Marinette's line of sight and sighed. “I should have known. Girl, _chill_. You're gonna do fine.”

Alya was right, more or less. As long as “fine” was defined as tripping herself six times, tripping Adrien three times, falling into him four times, and nearly falling on the floor a grand total of nine times. She almost certainly would have fallen for real if Adrien hadn't been so good at catching her whenever she started to pitch over. This was almost as bad as the very first day they'd danced together. Marinette had never wished so desperately for the ability to sink into the floor and disappear. When classes were over for the day, she mumbled an apology and rushed to collect her things to go home.

“Wait, Marinette.” Adrien caught her by the wrist. “Is everything okay? You seemed kind of … off today.”

Oh, dear God. How was she supposed to answer that? _“I'm fine, I just can't think straight when I dance that close to you”?_ “Everything's fine,” she hastened to assure him. “I'm …” She paused. What was she supposed to tell him? What would he believe? “Tired,” she finished lamely. “Just tired. I guess I stayed up too late last night or something. I'm sorry for being such a troublesome partner today. I promise, I'll do better tomorrow.”

Adrien's hold had slackened a little, but he was still hanging onto her wrist. “You're sure?” he asked, his concern written plain as day across his face.

“Absolutely.” She nodded for emphasis. She tried her hardest to fight the blush that was starting to surge to her face, and failed. All she could do was hope he didn't notice her cheeks turn scarlet. “I'm one hundred percent okay. Never been better. Just … tired. Really tired. I've learned my lesson about staying up too late, I guess.” She was just rambling and repeating herself at this point, and she wished she had a little more control over her mouth around him. This was just humiliating.

Adrien didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he kept it to himself. He released her. “I guess I should let you go home and get some rest, then.”

“Thank-you-I'm-so-sorry-see-you-tomorrow-bye!” Marinette hurried to grab the rest of her things and rushed out of the studio. She was about halfway down the hall when she realized how rude she had just been, and she halted in her tracks and cringed. Adrien was probably going to think she was avoiding him now. She went back the way she had come, to go apologize yet again, and arrived just in time to flatten herself against the wall as the remaining students left. Adrien was the last to exit, heaving a sigh as he went.

Marinette tried to call to him to say she was sorry, but nothing could seem to come out.

~

“Tonight's the night,” Chat Noir said as he came up to Ladybug. Plagg and Tikki were elsewhere for a change, meandering between dancers. Probably to get a feel for where the other competition hopefuls stood in terms of ability. “You ready to wow the judges?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” she replied. In truth, her stomach was doing nervous somersaults, and she vaguely felt like she might throw up. It wasn't anything new for her—she always got a bad case of the jitters before school district competitions. But it was worse than usual this time. Maybe because she had never competed in swing dancing before?

Chat somehow noticed her nervousness even without her saying anything about it, and took her hands in his. “We're going to do purr-fectly fine, my lady. After all, I can lead pretty well, and I've got the best partner in the club.” He gave her a playful wink. “No reason to worry.”

Ladybug stared at him. “How did you …?”

“You're pale as a sheet,” Chat explained. “Like you've seen a ghost. I figured it was probably nerves.” He squeezed her hands, and guided her to the open position. “Do you want to practice while we wait for this thing to start?”

“It can't hurt,” Ladybug agreed. She moved so they were away from the wall. “So what's your plan for wowing the judges?”

Chat started leading, and talked as they danced. “Well, I know you prefer to stick to the side pivot, so we don't have to do this if you don't want to. But I was thinking we could try doing what Tikki and Plagg do. You know, the rock step from the closed position? Plagg's still convinced I'd kill us both if we tried, so I think he at least would be pretty impressed. I don't know about Tikki.”

Plagg, who was walking past, overheard and approached them. “Plotting, hm? Tikki's not that hard to impress. A few good aerials and you're in. Me,” he tapped his chest with his thumb, “I'm the tough one to win over.”

“Somehow I'm not surprised he said that,” Chat said to Ladybug, too quiet for Plagg to hear, as he spun her into sweetheart for a side lunge. He spun her back out and passed her around behind him to his other side. To Plagg, he said, “Are you watching us for the fun of it, or are you waiting to see if I screw up?”

“A little of both,” Plagg replied. “You look like you'll do just fine during the dance-off, though. Best of luck to you.” With that, he wandered off to watch a different pair of dancers.

Chat led her through Cupid's bow into the window. “I guess we can give the rock step a try,” Ladybug agreed through the space between their arms. “Did Plagg ever teach you how to get into the closed position from the open one?”

“No,” Chat admitted, “but I'm sure we can figure it out on our own.”

Ladybug frowned. “Is that really a good idea?”

“I guess we'll find out.” He let go of her hand and spun her back to the standard position. Then he began trying every possible combination of twists and turns the two of them could think of to get into the closed position. It took at least a good solid five minutes, and the music switched to a new song in the middle, but eventually they worked out that if Chat dropped her left hand, spun her out, and gave her a sharp enough tug in, she would be pulled and spun into the right spot to assume the closed position.

“There,” Ladybug said, satisfied. She set her hand on Chat's shoulder, where she'd seen Tikki place hers when she and Plagg danced. “Rock step next?”

“Rock step next,” Chat agreed.

That part was easier to manage. She had seen Plagg and Tikki do the rock step so many times that it wasn't hard to imitate it. Chat, likewise, had no trouble with the step. They started experimenting with different turns and dips from the closed position, testing which ones worked and which ones didn't. They even tried an aerial or two, once they were more comfortable with the new position.

Then the music paused as Tikki called for everyone to circle up.

It was time. Ladybug looked at Chat Noir, he nodded, and they went to fill in an empty space in the circle forming around the dance floor.

Plagg and Tikki remained in the center of the floor. “So,” Tikki started, “as all of you know, the annual swing dance competition is coming up. We have three slots this year instead of just one. That means we can send three pairs to the competition. As much as we'd love to send all of the pairs who are interested, though, we don't have _that_ many slots. So we're going to have a dance-off. How many of you are familiar with a snowball?” A few hands went up. “Not that many,” Tikki concluded. “Okay. So what a snowball is, Plagg and I are going to start off the dancing. And when I yell 'snowball,' we're going to split off and grab new partners. We'll keep doing that until everyone's dancing. Once everybody's dancing, I'll yell 'snowball' one more time, and you find the partner you want for the competition. Then Plagg and I will start nixing pairs until we have three left. Does that make sense?” There was a murmur of assent, and Tikki beamed. “In that case, let's get started!” She and Plagg assumed the closed position. The music resumed, and they began dancing.

Perhaps it was Tikki trying to tease Plagg, or perhaps she was trying to be as spontaneous as possible, but either way, Plagg was in the middle of the aerial known as rolling pin when she yelled “snowball.” He set her back on her feet as quickly as he could, shooting her a dirty look all the while, and peeled off to grab another dancer from the sidelines. Tikki ran over to Ladybug and Chat, grinning, and pulled Chat into the middle of the circle.

The dance floor became crowded rapidly, as Tikki yelled “snowball” when they least expected it and dancers pulled more and more people away from the sidelines. Ladybug was one of the last to be pulled out—she and Chat had gained a reputation for only partnering with one another, and she had a feeling other regulars were reluctant to dance with her for that reason. Eventually, no one was left on the sidelines at all anymore, and Tikki shouted “snowball” one more time. Ladybug scanned the crowd for Chat Noir. He was over on the other end of the circle, and also searching for her. When their eyes locked on one another, they slipped and wove between the other dancers to get to each other.

“Ready, my lady?” Chat asked with a grin. He had that excited spark in his eye, the gleam of exhilaration that came with dancing nonstop. It was the sort of look that made her burn to dance with him.

“Ready,” she agreed, grinning back.

It didn't take long for Plagg and Tikki to start nixing dancers. Within the first minute or so, many pairs were relegated back to the sidelines. Within two minutes, there were only six pairs left.

“Time to pull out the big guns,” Chat said quietly. Ladybug nodded her assent. He led her into cherry bomb, then spun her back out and went straight into Titanic. The pair next to them was nixed. Then Chat dropped her left hand, spun her out, and gave her a sharp tug in. Ladybug recognized the cue and let his tug pull her all the way to the closed position. They switched to the rock step immediately. A few cheers rose up from the sidelines at that.

“Scorpion,” Chat whispered. He dropped the hand at her waist, tugged her in closer, and pushed her out firmly. Ladybug followed the force of his push and spun to roll across his back until his hand caught hers again. Then it was back to the closed position. He had just wound her out from sweetheart for a palm turn when another pair was nixed.

Four pairs left. They were almost done.

Chat finished the palm turn with a flourishing double spin and wasted no time in going in for another move. They had to do their best to impress if they wanted to make it to the competition. From Cupid's bow they went to hammerlock, then back out to where Chat could free spin her. As she spun around to face him again, she pretended to slap him, and he spun with the fake hit. Then he caught her hands and continued the dance. “Feel brave enough to try coathanger again?” he asked.

“I trust you, kitty,” she answered.

Chat took that as a yes. He brought her in for sweetheart and spun her out, and just as they had earlier that night, she jumped and he caught her before hoisting her leg over his head for the aerial. They were halfway through the spin when another pair was nixed.

“And we have our winners!” Tikki announced as Chat set Ladybug back down on her feet. “Everybody please give them a hand!”

Ladybug and Chat grinned at each other with identical smiles of excitement as the other dancers applauded. Ladybug was first to hold her fist out. “Good job?”

“Good job,” Chat agreed, tapping her fist with his.

 


	5. Over Our Heads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Competition jitters are bad enough when there's only one to worry about. With not one but two coming up, the pressure on Marinette and her identity as Ladybug is getting stronger than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally wrote more for this fic! I feel really bad having left it alone for so long--I plan to release chapters for my multi-part fics on a rotating schedule from here on out to make sure none of them are neglected like this anymore. You can visit my main blog on Tumblr (jesus-otaku) for more details; I'll be setting up a link with the fic schedule within the next day or so.  
> My personal playlist for this chapter:  
> Surely (I Love You) - Huey Lewis and the News  
> What's Next? - Big Bad Voodoo Daddy  
> You're Only Human (Second Wind) - Billy Joel

The classroom brackets to choose their pair for the district competition were posted. Marinette felt vaguely as if she might throw up. She and Adrien were assigned to go up against Alya and Nino, of all people, in the first round. Marinette personally thought it would be a miracle if they made it past this round. She still hadn't gotten used to dancing the tango with Adrien; they'd be lucky if she didn't trip them both within the first two minutes. “Am I allowed to forfeit?” she asked Alya, who was standing next to her and looking at the brackets, although she already knew the answer was no.

Alya smiled with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Unfortunately, unless you want a failing grade for not participating …”

Marinette grabbed at Alya's arm. “You have to help me. I'm going to make a fool of myself and make Adrien look bad in front of the entire class. I can't let that happen! He'd never forgive me!”

“Well, actually, knowing Adrien, I'm pretty sure he'd forgive you before you even apologized,” Alya replied with a laugh. She removed Marinette's hand from her arm. “And you'll be fine. If it's that bad, you could always try imagining that you're dancing with someone else.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but she caught sight of something or someone behind Marinette, and started heading across the studio to Nino. “Good luck. I'd better go help Nino figure out our choreography!”

“Alya, wai—”

“Morning, Marinette,” Adrien greeted her, coming up beside her. He gave her his usual cheerful, sunny smile that always set her heart pounding double-time. “We start working on choreography today, right?”

“Yeahning—I mean norming—I mean morning,” she stammered. She pasted a smile on her face and hope it looked genuine enough to cover up how nervous she was feeling. “I mean good morning! Yeah. Um … that is, yes. Yes, we're supposed to start choreographying—choreographing! We're supposed to start choreographing today.” God, she needed to stop talking before she made herself look like an even bigger idiot. Her stupid mouth couldn't seem to listen to her brain, though, and she found herself stuttering on like a fool. “Since … um … the competition district is … ack, I mean the district competition is coming up and we have to—well, the class has to … um … pick who we're going to send for our age bracket. To compete. In the competition.”

Somehow, Adrien must have understood what she was trying to say, because he nodded and asked, “Is there an assigned song that we have to choreograph our dance to?” He set his bag down and crossed over to the warm-up bar so he wasn't blocking the door anymore.

Marinette hurried to join him. “We have a few songs to fick prom—I mean pick from.” This day was off to a horrible start so far. She couldn't even talk like a normal human being. Choreographing anything today was going to be a nightmare.

Adrien, of course, (bless his soul,) had more presence of mind than Marinette, and proved to be a natural at choreographing. With her limited, stammered input, he selected the music for their dance from Miss Bustier's provided CDs, and immediately set about figuring out how they would open the dance.

“… And then maybe some kind of turn? That could work really well with this crescendo in the music.” He turned to Marinette. “What do you think? Should we do a turn here?”

“Huh?” Put on the spot, she could hardly manage more than a few broken syllables. “I … well … if … maybe … we could … and … um …”

Adrien stepped away from the bar. “How about we practice what we've got so far? Then we can see how well the turn would work.” He held his arms out in the ballroom position, waiting for her to join him.

Inwardly, Marinette cringed. This was not going to end well, she could tell already. She could barely even talk to him today. There was no way she was going to manage dancing with him. Especially not the blasted tango. But, since it was Adrien and she could never tell him no in a million years, she got to her feet and let him take her hand in his for the ballroom position.

It was a catastrophe.

“I'm sorry,” Adrien apologized when the third move nearly ended in Marinette tripping both of them. “I forgot, I learned that one back when I was in private lessons. I should have asked if you knew it first.”

“That's—it's—I mean, um, it's okay,” she managed to say. “I know it—the move, I mean. I just—I wasn't—I forgot, um … I forgot what came next, and I … I'm sorry, my brain just—stupid brain, I …”

“Don't worry about it,” he assured her. “We can try again, from the top. We've got a couple weeks to figure this thing out. There's no rush.”

Marinette thought that two weeks was nowhere near enough time for her to get used to dancing the tango with Adrien, let alone compete with him against their classmates, but she kept it to herself and let Adrien start their routine over.

~

“We've got your first bracket!” Tikki announced, waving a piece of paper in her hand as she came over to where Ladybug and Chat Noir had just been about to start their first dance of the night. Plagg joined them moments later.

“Unfortunately, it looks like you guys are gonna have one of the harder preliminary brackets,” Tikki continued. She tucked the paper into the pocket of her suitcoat. “You're up against a pair that's competed before several times representing Papillon.”

“Papillon?” Ladybug and Chat echoed in tandem.

Tikki's eyebrows went up in surprise. “The biggest swing club in Paris,” Plagg explained before she could even open her mouth to answer. He propped his arm on Tikki's shoulder. “It's run by an anonymous benefactor who uses the name Papillon as his alias. He's been sending in competitors for … how long has it been now, Tikki? At least twenty years?”

“Twenty-one,” Tikki supplied.

“Twenty-one years,” Plagg said. “And one of his pairs has won almost every single year. We always go up against them in the finals. Haven't beaten them in the finals since the original Ladybug and Chat Noir retired. Which was about seventeen years ago.” He eyed the two of them. “I'm a bit surprised you haven't heard of Papillon before. They're a lot bigger than we are in the swing dance world.”

“I've heard of them before,” Chat said, shrugging, “but I thought they were some kind of dance school for people who wanted to learn as a hobby. I never really paid much attention to the names of the clubs who sent the winning pairs for the swing competition.”

Plagg looked at Ladybug. “I always got my info about the competition from a friend of mine,” she explained. “And she was more interested in Kwami Dance Club and Ladybug than the other competitors. So I never got names.”

Plagg grinned. “Your friend has good taste.”

“In any case,” Tikki said, drawing their attention back to her, “you're competing against Monsieur Pigeon and his partner Colombe in the first round.”

 _Monsieur Pigeon??_ Ladybug snorted in amusement. Chat Noir seemed to find the name just as funny as she did; he burst out laughing. His laughter set her off, and though she tried her best to stop laughing, she couldn't.

Tikki propped her hands on her hips. “Laugh all you want, but they're good dancers. They've made it up to the semifinals before.”

“Still,” Chat Noir managed to snicker, “Monsieur Pigeon? What's his first name? Homing?” He dissolved into another laughing fit at his own joke.

“Papillon stole our code name trend,” Plagg said by way of explanation. “And Tikki's right. He doesn't sound like much, but he and his partner can be a tough pair to beat. He's been competing for at least the past ten years.”

“An old pigeon,” Ladybug quipped to Chat in a whisper, having stopped laughing enough to at least regain her faculty of speech. He nearly doubled over.

Tikki and Plagg seemed to silently decide they should just wait until Ladybug and Chat had stopped laughing about the name Monsieur Pigeon. Plagg leaned against Tikki, his arm still propped on her shoulder, and she folded her arms across her chest patiently. When both Ladybug and Chat Noir had finally managed to cease their laughing fit, Tikki resumed the conversation. “The thing you're going to have to watch out for with this pair is their aerials. They know a lot of aerials you two haven't learned yet, and they've had years to perfect them. Their big finishing moves are sidecar and the angel.”

Chat waved his hand dismissively. “They don't sound like all that.”

Plagg and Tikki exchanged glances. “Sounds like someone needs a reality check,” Plagg remarked as Tikki took his hands in hers, obviously preparing to dance. He shifted with her into the closed position, and they fell into the rock step with the ease of years of practice. “This is sidecar.”

In the amount of time it would have taken Ladybug to blink, Plagg swept Tikki up off the floor and dipped her to first one side, then the other. She would have thought they were doing the double cherry bomb if it weren't for the fact that Plagg wasn't supporting Tikki the same way at all. She was about to ask Chat if he thought it was all that impressive a move when Plagg swung Tikki straight towards himself and then _up_ , with only his hands on her waist for support. Tikki balanced, upside down and pin-straight, above Plagg for what seemed like an impossibly long amount of time, though it was probably only a few seconds at most. Then she was swung back down onto her feet.

“Holy crap,” Chat said under his breath. Ladybug was inclined to agree.

“Monsieur Pigeon won't put his partner down that soon,” Plagg warned them. “He likes to strut his stuff a little first.”

“I know someone else who used to like to strut his stuff,” Tikki remarked with a sidelong glance Plagg's way. He either didn't hear her or elected to ignore her. She turned her attention on Chat Noir and Ladybug. “Plagg makes it sound like a bad thing, but showing off is actually a really good idea when you're doing aerials. The longer the girl's up in the air, the more impressive it looks. As long as you don't hold her up for too long,” she amended. “Otherwise it can start to seem like you just don't know what to do next.”

“So that's sidecar,” Ladybug said slowly, “but what about the other one you mentioned?” She didn't think anything could possibly top that near-impossible balancing act, but if there was one thing she had learned about swing dance, it was always full of surprises.

“The angel,” Plagg said. Tikki took his hands in hers in obvious anticipation. “It's not as impressive from a brute strength perspective, but it looks cooler.” With that, he and Tikki started the rock step again, and Tikki was spun around only once before being flipped up onto Plagg's shoulder. Although this time she was balanced on her stomach and not upside down, she still remained pin-straight as before.

“That's so cool,” Chat gushed. Rather than intimidated, he looked … excited? Did he forget that this was a move their opponents had mastered?

Plagg looked smugly pleased by the praise. “As an additional option, for added effect …” He spun in a tight circle, keeping Tikki perfectly balanced the whole time. At the end of the turn, Tikki was flipped off his shoulder to land back on the floor. “And that's the angel.”

“Could you teach us that one?” Chat asked eagerly. He seemed to catch himself, and looked over at Ladybug. “If it's all right with you, of course, my lady.”

She smiled. It _did_ look like a fun aerial to learn. And it couldn't hurt to brush up their repertoire before going up against someone with as much aerial experience as Monsieur Pigeon. “I wouldn't mind.”

“You're not going to beat him at his own game,” Plagg said, as if he could read her mind. “In a contest of aerials, he's always got the upper hand.”

Ladybug eyed him curiously. “Then what do you suggest?”

Plagg smirked. “Make him play your game instead.”

~

In less than twenty-four hours she was going to be competing on a stage in front of half of Paris.

“–ette.”

In less than twenty-four hours she was going to compete for the first time as the new Ladybug.

“–rinette.”

God, there was so much that could go wrong.

“Marinette.”

Fingers snapped in front of her face, jolting Marinette back to reality. She looked up from the spot on the floor she had been staring at fixedly for the past couple minutes and was greeted by the sight of Adrien looking rather worried. “Are you all right?” he asked her. “You seem kind of out of it today.” He paused a moment before amending, “Well, more than usual, that is. Is everything okay?”

Marinette felt heat surge into her cheeks. She'd been so worried about the competiton tomorrow that she'd ignored Adrien. And in the middle of class, too! “I'm fine,” she stammered. “Everything's fine. I was just … thinking. I got a little distracted for a minute. But everything's fine. Um … could you repeat what you said?”

He didn't look disappointed or frustrated with her because she'd stopped listening. As a matter of fact, he was still smiling in that sweet way of his that made her heart pound twice as fast. The boy really was an absolute angel. “I just asked if you would mind staying after school for a while so we could practice our routine some more. Nino mentioned that he and Alya have been practicing outside of class to get their dance down, and, well, I thought it might not be a bad idea to try practicing a little extra ourselves.”

Marinette's brain short-circuited. Staying after school with Adrien? To practice the tango? Together? _Alone?_

When she didn't respond right away, Adrien's expression fell ever so slightly. “We don't have to,” he added. “I just thought maybe—well, it was just an idea. If you can't stay then that's–”

“It's fine!” Marinette blurted. Adrien seemed taken aback by her vehemence, and she did her best to dial down her enthusiasm by several notches. “I mean—well—I don't mind. It's fine. I can call my parents and let them know I'll be a little late coming home. Um—how long were you thinking?”

Adrien shrugged. “Maybe an hour tops. I don't want to keep you here all day and I have a c—something important coming up tomorrow that I'll need to be well-rested for.”

Marinette hoped the “something important” didn't have anything to do with watching the first preliminary round of the swing dance competition. “An hour should be fine,” she agreed.

“Great!” Adrien beamed. “I'll go ask Miss Bustier about letting us use the room after class gets out, then. I'll be right back!” And he hurried off to do just that.

Marinette sank into the nearest chair. Had she really just agreed to spend an hour alone with Adrien after class? Her brain was sure to turn into total mush!

Then again, was this really a time to be worrying about spending a single hour alone with Adrien? There was a competition coming up tomorrow, one that would have far more consequences than the classroom bracket against Nino and Alya. Whatever happened tomorrow would reflect not only on her, personally, but on the Ladybug persona, Kwami Dance Club, and Tikki and Plagg, too. It had taken years for the club to rise to fame. To represent it poorly now would be to subject it to enormous ridicule. She didn't want that to happen, not to Tikki, who had been so eager and kind to help her come into her own as the new Ladybug, and not to Plagg, who had given her the best partner she could have asked for.

“Marinette, we're all set,” Adrien said, coming back over at a trot. “Miss Bustier said we can have the studio for as long as …” He trailed off as he caught sight of her face. “What's the matter?”

She did her best to school her face into a more neutral expression. Going by the concern in his eyes, she must have looked like it was the end of the world. “It's, um … well, not nothing, but … it—it's nothing important. Just …” She sighed. He wasn't buying it, she could tell. Every word just seemed to increase his concern. She would have to explain while revealing as little as possible. “It's just … competition jitters.” There. That was vague enough. He would assume she meant the classroom competition, not the swing dance one tomorrow. At least, she hoped he would.

Adrien sat down next to her. “You're nervous?”

She attempted to laugh, but it came out too shaky to be convincing. “It's kind of pathetic, isn't it? Getting nervous after so many years of competing …”

“It's not pathetic,” Adrien said with surprising force. Marinette looked at him and almost had to look away again when she saw the intensity in his face. “Marinette, there's nothing wrong with being nervous. It happens to everyone.”

This time, she did look away, focusing on her hands where they were folded in her lap. “But I've been screwing up so much the past couple months. I've never been the best in the class, but this has just been …”

The bell rang to signal the end of class, and their classmates began to filter out of the room. Adrien paid them no heed, except to give a wave of goodbye to Nino. His attention, for the most part, remained on Marinette. “It hasn't been that bad. It can take a while to get used to a new partner, that's all.”

“But two months?” She didn't lift her eyes from her hands. “I've been falling and knocking you over since day one, like a total klutz, and it hasn't been getting any better.”

He paused. “Well, I guess I can't argue with that part, but …”

“But …?” she prompted. She glanced up, curious, and noticed that aside from them, everyone else had left.

They were all alone.

Adrien was fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. “I noticed while I was partnered with Chloé that you danced really well with the other guys. I thought maybe it would be easy for you to adjust to having me as a partner. But, well, I guess that was kind of silly of me, huh? It's a lot to expect of someone, just assuming they'll adjust to dancing with someone they hardly know right away. If either of us is to blame here, then I think it should be me. For expecting too much from you.”

“Not at all!” Marinette protested. “That's not—you're not asking too much! You're right, that I should have been able to adjust sooner. It's not your fault that I haven't been able to dance the way I should be able to.”

He smiled, but it wasn't his usual angelic smile. It was a bashful, half-relieved and half-apologetic smile, the likes of which she had never expected to see on Adrien Agreste, let alone at a time like this. “You're too kind, Marinette. I guess that's probably why I wanted to project my expectations onto you so much.” He stood up, twisting so he was still facing her. “I'm sorry. For expecting too much, and for not noticing sooner that you were nervous. We'll take things slower, okay? As much as you need.”

She bit her lip. “And if I still screw up?”

“If we've done our best, then I won't have any regrets,” he answered resolutely. “No one can ask any more of you than your best.” He offered his hand. “Ready to practice?”

Smiling, and somehow feeling like a huge weight had just been removed from her shoulders, Marinette took his hand.


End file.
